Stirring the Pot Ch. 01

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Bekah leaned heavily on the railing. It was getting more and more uncomfortable to do even the simplest things, like just standing on the deck trying to catch a breath of fresh air - although “fresh” was relative. It already felt humid and cloying, and it wasn’t even June yet. Fucking Virginia!

She was a beach baby, born and raised in Southern California, although you wouldn't know it to look at her. She kept her brown hair straight and cut just below her ears, and usually held it in place with a hairband. Although she loved to be outdoors she didn't tan well, and her skin perpetually had a pink, fresh scrubbed look, even after all day in the garden or schlepping stuff back and forth from the store. A cluster of freckles dusted the bridge of her nose, drawing attention to violet colored eyes that held just the slightest hint of amusement, even when she was mad. It was easy to mistake her for a New England prep school grad rather than a West Coast surfer girl.

When Jake first told her about the opportunity out here she'd smiled dutifully and made all of the appropriate wife noises - "That's great, dear," and "It sounds like the shot you've been hoping for," - but to be perfectly honest, the thought of moving east made skin crawl.

He’d been offered the position of Chief Technology Officer with a fairly large bank. It was very prestigious; he'd be the youngest member on the management team. But it meant relocating to Richmond, Virginia, and he knew how much Bekah loved California. He told her that he was willing to pass on the job if the idea really upset her, but they both knew that was ridiculous. They'd been talking about starting a family, and this job would provide the income and stability they needed, and it would allow her to stay home and raise a child. So off to Richmond they went.

Bekah quickly discovered that Richmond differed from San Diego in temperament as well as in temperature. At the suggestion of Jake's boss they'd bought a house on the West Side, in a gated community that was the current desirable place to live in town. The houses were designed to look old and grand even though the whole subdivision was less than 10 years old. The Keiran's were easily 15 years younger than any of their neighbors, and whenever they accepted a social invitation Bekah couldn't shake the feeling that she was being summoned to the principal's office.

It was hard for her to get used to the social norms and protocols of living in a Southern city. Who you were was seldom as important as who you knew or where you went. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth she managed to offend someone. When she finally got pregnant she welcomed the morning sickness; it gave her a legitimate excuse to avoid all of the women that made her feel like she was intruding anyway.

She stood there a moment longer, wishing her backyard was the beach she'd left behind. She rubbed her distended belly absently; she found comfort in its implied promise of new things yet to come. She unbuttoned her dress and slipped her hand inside; her skin tingled where skin met skin.

All of her senses seemed magnified 1,000 times over since she'd gotten pregnant. Frequently they would rise up and revolt, bringing such intense reactions to taste, touches, smell and feel that she would have to lie down in her bedroom, away from everything, until the assault subsided. If she drank a cold glass of water, she could feel icy tendrils slide down her throat and coil in her stomach, the chill radiating outward and encasing her body. Walking into a grocery store, the smell of fresh baked bread affected her so strongly that she felt empty and starving and no amount of food could staunch her hunger.

But worst of all was the effect that this heightened sensitivity had on her arousal. The sheet pulling across her breast, the spray from the shower playing on her nipple, the feel of the cloth against her labia and asshole - she walked around all day on the verge of an orgasm.

Which could have worked out wonderfully except Jake treated her like she was fragile, afraid to touch her in any way remotely sexual for fear of harming the baby. He gave her backrubs when what she wanted - no, needed - was a hard fucking. She'd tried everything, even enlisting the help of her OB, to convince him that it was okay for them to have sex, but he wouldn't relent.

She could feel an episode coming on. In addition to the pleasurable bursts her fingers were causing on her bare stomach, it felt like the sun was wrapped around her, trapping her in a warm, tight hug that touched her everywhere. She shifted slightly as if maybe she could break free from the embrace but it seemed to tighten in response to her movement. Her nipples throbbed, the skin tightening as they swelled, and she felt herself grow moist between her legs.

Her mind wandered. She looked out over the backyard but instead of trees she saw water stretching as far as she could see. People laughing, children playing the sand, dogs splashing in the water. Then a gentle breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and stirring up the humidity, and she was back in Virginia.

As if in a trance, she glided down the steps into the backyard. The grass was warm under her feet, the dew still clinging stubbornly this late in the morning. She sighed, flexing her toes a little and grabbing several blades with them as she made her way to a wide open space over near the high wooden fence. The sun here was full and strong. She turned her face up and let it wash over her.

Suddenly her clothes was too heavy, too confining. She unbuttoned the remaining buttons on the front of her dress and tugged at it, letting it drop in a pile at her feet. Immediately she shucked the bra that she'd been able to wear comfortably pre-pregnancy, but was now painfully restrictive for breasts that had grown full and heavy.

The sun felt wonderful against her bare skin. She felt her nipples harden painfully as the soft warm breeze enveloped her body and she sighed. She placed a hand on each breast, squeezed gently, and flicked the extended nipple with her thumb.

Carefully, she lowered herself to the ground, hissing as the prickly grass poked and scratched her through her thin cotton panties. Lying on her back she reached down and slipped them off, and shifted as the grass now made contact with her ass.

She spread her legs as wide as she could and let the sun warm her. Her clit stiffened and emerged from the soft pink folds between her legs. With eyes squeezed tight she pinched it between two fingers and pulled, coaxing it further out of its hood. She was panting now, her own juices mixing with the dew and making the ground beneath her even damper. It had been months since she and Jake had made love. She'd tried a vibrator but the orgasms were second rate. She hated the antiseptic feel of the plastic and rubber inside of her, and the mechanical motions were measured and practiced where she craved spontaneity and abandon.

Her fingers acted as if they belonged to someone else, a lustful stranger who wanted nothing more than to please her. They pulled and tugged until her clit was rock hard and her thighs were slick with her own juice. When her fingers strayed toward her pussy lips, puffy from heat and excitement, her thighs tensed and she arched her back, willing them to enter. She pressed her ass against the ground, trying to open herself as wide as she possibly could. She was sweating freely now, as much from the heat as from arousal.

"Please stop teasing," she pleaded in a small voice. But something got lost between her brain and her hand; instead of granting her wish, it traveled back up to her clit and squeezed tighter, twisting almost cruelly.

"Oh God," she moaned. She was so wet now that her moisture dripped freely, creating a slick trail between her ass cheeks and onto the ground below.

She finally snaked a finger into her gaping pussy, feeling the soft, hot, moistness as she continued to pull her clit with her other hand, and convulsed as the pleasure ran through her. Before the shaking stopped she was thrusting her finger in and out as fast as she could, and rubbing her clit vigorously.

She dug her heels into the soft ground as the first stages of her orgasm begin. Her toes, her nipples, her cheeks - they all burned to the point of being painful. The internal pressure bordered on unbearable, everything rushing outward toward the farthest edges of her body. Her nipples and clit throbbed so hard you could see gentle pulses work their way over the surface. She added a second finger to the first and increased the speed of her thrusting.

Her hips were rocking now and she moaned louder, forgetting that she was outside and that people in their yards or passing behind the house might hear. The only thing she cared about now was climaxing. Between her legs she twisted her fingers, corkscrewing them deeper as she ground the heel of her hand against her clit. This pushed her into the second stage of her orgasm, where the world heaved violently and spun in ever widening circles. She tried flattening her body against the ground in an effort to slow it down but that was useless. Momentarily she brought her hands up to her nipples and squeezed - actually pinched - causing her to let loose a groan and a scream that was sure to bring someone to investigate.

Moving her hands back between her legs she forced her fingers back into her pussy and slapped her clit. Her legs snapped shut, trapping her hands, as the final stage of her orgasm erupted. A strong, brutal force rocked her body, starting deep within her groin and rocketing out in all directions. She gasped, trying desperately to catch her breath as tremors shook her repeatedly for several minutes.

When it was over she lay there, crumpled against the ground in a sticky pool of her own juices. In the background a bird began singing and a dog started barking, and for the first time she thought maybe this wasn't such a bad place after all.

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